


Blue Is Just Pretty

by Emela



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: De-Aged Derek, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, True Love's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emela/pseuds/Emela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles never thought he’d see the day where Derek let Kira and Erica paint his face and smile about it. Then again, he never expected to be taking care of a four year old Derek either.</p>
<p>The problem though, is Derek’s face is currently painted like a bunny and he’s looking at Stiles like he’s his favourite person in the whole world.</p>
<p>Stiles misses the days where Derek used to threaten him with his teeth. At least he knew he was going to survive those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Is Just Pretty

Stiles never thought he’d see the day where Derek let Kira and Erica paint his face and smile about it. Then again, he never expected to be taking care of a four year old Derek either.

Stiles thought the first Derek got de-aged was hard enough. From the moment they found him, Stiles had panicked; all the way from Mexico to when Derek had been lying unconscious on Deaton’s table, it took all his self-control not to freak out, even though he didn’t know exactly why. His heart just about stopped, however, when he saw him going out that window with Kate, and, well, if that was also the moment he realised just how much he actually cared for the asshole…it wasn’t much of a revelation anyway. 

So, all said and done, Stiles thought this time would be a much simpler affair. Derek can’t climb out any windows without someone helping him- not funny Erica. He doesn’t have to convince anyone he’s his cousin, and finally Derek doesn’t question Stiles’ authority every minute of the day. Which, you know, is nice- so nice Stiles plans to record at least some of it to tease Derek with later- but mostly, it just makes him miss his- uh, their- Derek more. Because, well, shut up, he just likes challenging people. He doesn’t get turned on by it or anything.

He doesn’t.

The problem though, the problem with this whole damn thing, is Derek’s face is currently painted like a bunny and he’s looking at Stiles like he’s his favourite person in the whole world.

An hour ago, Derek painted Stiles a picture of the pack and put Stiles in the middle of it, a blue and orange blanket wrapped around him, before proceeding to say in the most adorable and earnest voice ever, because you deserve snuggles, ‘tiles.

Yesterday, Stiles found him crying in the kitchen, sitting on the floor all by himself, because Aslan died in the ‘Narnia’ movie Scott had put on for him. His little fingers had clutched at Stiles’ t-shirt when he asked him what was wrong, little cheeks all puffed out and red from crying, only regaining their normal colour when Stiles put him in his lap and let Derek scent him for a while.

It just about broke Stiles’ heart when Derek whispered home before falling asleep with his face buried in Stiles’ neck.

And now, because Derek is intent on killing him, Derek is tugging at his sleeve, asking Stiles if he makes a good bunny.

A good bunny.

Stiles misses the days where Derek used to threaten him with his teeth. At least he knew he was going to survive those days.

“Hey, buddy,” he grins, bending down so he’s at Derek’s level. “You make an awesome bunny.” He ruffles his hair, because Derek seems to like that, and Derek practically beams back at him, eyes widening before running back to Erica and Kira yelling, “’tiles thinks I make a good bunny. Will he marry me when I’m big now?”

Kira giggles, Eskimo kissing Derek, making him giggle and squirm shyly, while Erica turns to look at Stiles, an almost predatory grin on her face as she obviously takes in his slightly elevated heart beat and eternal misery- because there is nothing like the guy you are possibly most definitely in love with asking you to marry him when he’s four- and says, “Oh, I’m sure if you asked him, he’d do a lot more than marry you.”

Kira gasps and covers Derek’s tiny ears, but Derek’s already frowning in thought, clearly thinking hard about Erica’s words.

He does that a lot, making a point of listening to everything being said to him. According to his Dad, Stiles was the same, although apparently Stiles didn’t care if he offended anyone or not, he just wanted answers. Which, you know, is pretty much him now, so. Derek, on the other hand, very much cares about offending people. This morning he cried when Isaac made a joke and he didn’t get it.

He then went and drew Isaac a picture to say sorry.

Stiles had just about died on the spot.

Finally, Derek says, “Like take me for ice c’eam?”

Erica throws her head back and laughs, ruffling Derek’s hair before he has time to get offended. “Yeah, sure, Der. Like take you for ice cream.”

“’tiles?” Derek asks, skipping back over to him. “Erica said if I asked, you’d take me for ice c’eam!”

Stiles glares at Erica but sighs, hearting melting, when Derek shyly starts tugging on his pants leg. Derek doesn’t demand things, Stiles has noticed. He is, however, an expert on charming you into doing anything he wants. Stiles doesn’t even think Derek knows he’s trying, to be honest, which unfortunately means no-one ever refuses him. Not even him. He just can’t. To refuse Derek anything like this would be going against the law. His dad’s the Sheriff, he knows these things.

“Okay,” Stiles smiles, even though he knows the nearest ice cream place is closed, that the closest one after that is over an hour away. Maybe he could just go tomorrow and-

“What kind of ice cream do you want?”

Fuck his life.

Derek frowns, holding on to Stiles’ leg a little tighter like it’s going to help him with the decision. “’choose when we get there,” he says, eventually.

Stiles shakes his head. “No can do, big guy. There’s no car seat for you to sit in.”

Derek looks like he is about to argue, eyes getting dangerously big. (Stiles resolutely does not let himself think about the fact Derek gets like this every times Stiles tries to leave the room without him). Finally, though, Derek nods. 

“’kay,” he whispers, looking down at the ground before tugging on Stiles’ leg again. “Wait here!”

Stiles tries not to laugh along with Erica as Derek scrambles for the stairs, little butt wiggling as he attempts to climb them a little too fast.

“Here,” Kira says, stifling her own laugh, walking up behind him. “Let me help.”

“Thank you,” Derek says, letting Kira pick him up and oh god, why couldn’t Derek just have been a rude child? Why are the gods punishing him like this?

He is tempted to follow them both up the stairs, it is his house after all, but decides to let Derek do whatever it is he is going to do.

Derek isn’t the most talkative child, but he likes sharing everything he thinks about with Stiles. He tells him what he likes and what he doesn’t like. He tells him he’s scared there are monsters under his bed and that pineapple pizza is his favouritist. It’s a nice feeling, being trusted with so much, even if by a four year old.

It’s still Derek, and somehow, that means everything.

(Shit, he’s so far gone, isn’t he?)

It takes a few minutes, but soon enough Derek is making his way back down the stairs, little legs moving so quickly Erica has to dive forward to catch him before he falls when Kira isn’t quick enough.

Stiles dives right after her, heart racing- he’s pretty sure he screams- and they end up in some kind of puppy pile- no pun intended, he swears- with Derek safe and sound in his arms.

“What were you doing running that fast?” he, well, he doesn’t yell, but it’s a very near thing.

Derek looks down at his hand, lip wobbling slightly, and Stiles sighs, bringing him in for a hug. “Sorry, buddy, but I worry, okay?”

Derek nods and slowly opens up his hand to let Stiles see what is inside.

“For you,” he whispers.

Stiles raises an eyebrow, looking at a blue piece of string from what is clearly the white board in his bedroom.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, trying to take it, but Derek snatches his hand away before he can.

“No!” he says, shaking his head. “I get to put it on you, ‘tiles!”

Stiles bites his lip, unable to help smiling. He really has no idea where Derek is going with this, but he holds out his hand away.

Grinning triumphantly, Derek wiggles until Stiles puts him down, taking Stiles’ hand.

“Blue means pretty, ‘member?” he whispers, like it’s a secret, tying the string around…is that Stiles’ wedding finger? “And you’re the prettiest, ‘tiles!”

Blue is just pretty. How did Derek even-

Derek looks so pleased with himself when he’s done tying the string, singing the word “pretty” over and over, and Stiles, god help him, feels himself blush. No one has ever called him pretty before.

“What about Auntie Kira and Erica?” he asks, suddenly noticing them staring. Erica in particular looks sad she doesn’t have any popcorn. He glares at her.

Derek ponders this for a moment. “They both have pretty hair…and Kira is really nice.”

“Hey,” Erica exclaims, genuinely offended, but Derek reaches out for her, petting her face and sighing, and it’s the cutest thing Stiles has ever seen. “You ‘mind me of Laurie. She was pretty without make up too,” he says, crawling onto her lap. “I miss Laurie.”

Erica’s eyes widen, but it’s Derek who ends stroking her forehead, rather than the other way around. “It’s okay,” Derek goes on. “You make a good sister, Erica.”

Erica looks like she’s about to cry.

“Yeah,” Stiles agrees, not sure he’s ready to start crying with her. “Kick ass and beautiful, with or without the bright red lipstick.”

Erica’s eyes flick to his, suddenly shy, and Stiles is reminded of the girl he used to see in the hallways, before werewolves, before everything. “Really?”

Stiles nods and Erica smiles. “Thanks, Stilinski.”

Derek pats her head one more time and then turns back to Stiles.

“Am I pretty enough to wear blue?” he asks, squirming a little, not quite able to meet Stiles’ eye.

Stiles laughs, grinning. “Heck yeah, buddy.” He feels himself blush again and Derek prods him in the cheek, because, yeah, he’s still four.

“When you’re gone, I’m gonna wear the blue string too then, and that means you have to come back.”

It’s the worst and best logic Stiles has ever heard.

“Yeah, okay, Derek. Just for you.”

“Just for me,” Derek repeats, like he’s been given a present, kissing Stiles on the cheek, which is when the front door blows open.

***

“How do you feel?” Stiles asks, hesitantly sitting down beside Derek. He’s been back to normal for two hours now, but Stiles hasn’t been able to find the courage to talk to him. Not after-

“Nothing feels out of place,” Derek mumbles, shrugging, looking ahead, not looking where he should be. Why can’t Derek ever make things easy on him? 

Stiles sighs. “No, I mean about…you know.”

Derek frowns. “Can we just…not talk about it?” he asks. “It’s embarrassing.”

Stiles swallows, the words a stab to the, well, everything.

“Sure,” he says. “Sure, let’s not talk about the fact you kissing me changed you back. Let’s not talk about how I’m apparently true love’s kiss.” He laughs, once. This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have asked. “Figures my true love doesn’t love me.” Why would he ever think he’d be so lucky to get something good for once? 

Swallowing again, he makes a move to get up, but suddenly there is a hand stopping him. Derek’s hand, big and tanned, and Stiles can’t help but reach down to take it, just this once. He feels like he’s going to cry.

“You…this is really hurting you?” Derek whispers, looking up.

Stiles’ eyes widen. “Well, does it look like I’m happy you don’t love me?” The words are out before Stiles can really think them through, before he gets a chance to consider what Derek is really asking, and he makes to turn away again, only this time both of Derek’s hands are on him and it feels so good, so safe, that Stiles can’t find it in him to shake him off.

“You love me,” Derek says, fact. Question. 

Stiles knows he can say no, but what would be the point when the person you’re in love with will know you’re lying? “Yes.”

“Well…ditto.”

Stiles’ heart stops. “D-ditto?”

Derek sighs. “Look, can we just not talk about it? I can’t….this is scary for me, okay?”

Stiles takes in Derek’s face then; the way his eyes are pleading with him but can’t seem to look away, how his eyebrows are doing that adorable-not-quite-frown they do when he’s trying to hate the world, but can’t quite manage. When he’s vulnerable. Takes in how his hands are big and strong, how they could pin him and hold him, but are trembling, like he’s afraid Stiles will leave.

“Okay,” he whispers, taking Derek’s hands in his, wrapping his fingers around them and bringing them up to his lips. “Later?”

Derek nods, smiling, before turning to nuzzle briefly at Stiles’ neck. “Later.”

Stiles grins.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on[ tumblr! ](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com/)


End file.
